Swamp Sickness
by Redi Chalyn
Summary: When a spell goes wrong, who comforts an apostate better than an ex templar?
1. Spell Gone Wrong

Morrigan sat against a tree, staring at the hut she had once shared with her mother. She shook her head, remembering how the warden had given her Flemeth's real grimoire as a trophy from the kill. She looked at the book on the ground beside her. She picked it up and flipped through the pages a bit, finding something that intrigued her. She stood and read from the tome out loud, incense burning around her. An unnatural darkness surrounded her, the air filling with a sinister laughter before the darkness entered her, knocking her back several paces. She touched her chest as she caught her breath, shaking the cloudiness from her head. She didn't feel any new power as she thought she should. She went back to where the book had fallen, picking it up and inspecting the text closer. She'd done everything correctly, so perhaps it would simply take some time for the effects to kick in. She put the tome back in her pack, returning to where the party had made camp.

As Morrigan returned to camp, she heard a vicious growling over the sounds of the campsite banter. Her eyes widened as she saw the warden's mabari staring at her with angry eyes. She looked past him to inside the camp, seeing Allistar looking over at her. He groaned and stood from the fire, going over. "Easy, boy. It's just Morrigan." He glared at her; clearly she'd interrupted some form of conversation. She grunted at him and walked past, going to her tent and pacing in front of it. For some reason, she still wasn't feeling any more powerful from the spell. Deciding there was nothing she could do about it at present, she laid down on her bedroll and drifted to sleep.

A few hours later, Morrigan jolted awake, eyes wide. She looked around to be sure no one had seen her in such a startled manner, then put a hand to her head, closing her eyes. Something wasn't right: she could feel it. Suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence, a loud sneeze came forth. Morrigan blinked several times, not quite believing that had come from her. After a few minutes, she smirked and shook her head, having convinced herself that nothing had happened. As she calmed down, she picked up the tome. Before she could open it and read more, however, another sneeze assaulted her senses, bursting forth and echoing a bit. She flopped back onto her pillow, closing her eyes and trying to relax. Surely, this wasn't happening to her. As she was about to drift back to sleep, a twig snapped near her. She sat upright again, looking up to see a former templar standing over her. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Can I help you?"

"I heard you sneezing and, well this may sound strange but, I was wondering if you were okay."

Morrigan scoffed. "You most certainly did NOT hear any such thing from me. Clearly, I am fine."

"Riiight. Never mind then." Allistar turned and started walking back to the main camp.

Morrigan sighed and laid back down, curling on her side. She coughed quietly, though Allistar still heard it. The templar returned and crouched beside her. He sighed and pulled her blanket farther up over her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but for some reason he truly did feel for the apostate, however hateful she was.


	2. Care for Apostate

The next day, Morrigan awoke feeling different, though not in the way she had hoped. Rather than feeling more powerful, she felt as though all her strength was draining. She shook her head and looked around. The sun was already risen, though it appeared it had not been for long. The warden, Cassandra, was finishing eating breakfast. Morrigan stood and grabbed her staff. Somehow, she felt disappointment rise within her. Something simply wasn't right. This was not the time for self pity or doubt, however. She could see the warden gesturing to her. Morrigan went down to the main camp.

"We're going back to Orzammar today to finish settling the dispute of leadership. You, Allistair, and my mabari will accompany me."

Morrigan nodded and went to her tent to prepare her things. In truth, she wanted to reread the spell to see what she'd done wrong. She didn't get the chance to pick the tome up, however, before the mabari barked. She sighed, standing up and walking toward the edge of camp. The four left for Orzammar again, with Morrigan still wondering what had gone wrong.

As the group approached the mountain pass, Morrigan stumbled, breaking into a coughing fit. The warden and Allistair turned and looked, the ex templar walking back to her and rubbing her back in soothing circles. When the fit passed, Morrigan didn't try to move, but simply focussed on breathing. Allistair raised an eyebrow. "Don't mages have an inability to catch colds?"

Morrigan shook her head, shrugging him off with a glare. "As if I would fall prey to something as incipid as a virus. It's lyrium dust. I accidentally inhaled some when I was making lyrium potions."

The warden grunted, not believing her but knowing that when Morrigan wanted a secret kept, it was best not to anger her with further questions. Allistair, on the other hand, was persistent. He put an arm around the apostate, helping her stand up straight despite the icy glare. "Doesn't raw lyrium make a person go insane from exposure? You're not insane, well, no more than usual."

Morrigan shoved him away. "Hysterical, really." She walked on, leaving a confused Allistair. He was just trying to help, but why exactly did he care? Even he didn't know.

As the group travelled through the deep roads, Morrigan gradually slowed down until she was way behind the others. She tried speeding up but found the attempt useless, breaking into another coughing fit. Allistair heard and turned around, running to her. Morrigan looked up at him, eyes wide with pleading. "Help...me..." she whispered before collapsing. Allistair caught her just before she hit the ground, looking around. "Maker's breath are we just going to do nothing?"

The warden shook her head and ran over, crouching down and touching Morrigan's face. "She's burning up. C'mon; let's get her back to camp. Orzammar can wait."

Allistair nodded and picked Morrigan up, carrying her out of the deep roads and back to their camp. He laid her down on her bedroll, looking at the warden. "You go ahead. Fix Orzammar's problems. I'll stay here and watch her." He looked back to the pale face of Morrigan, gently brushing stray hairs back into place.


	3. Tenderly, she sleeps

Dark shadows encircled her, choking the air out. She looked around with narrowed eyes, attempting to penetrate the unnatural darkness. A sinister voice echoed around her. _What business have you with shades of the fade, denizens of the dark. I see you, witch. You are unworthy. You should not have come. _

Morrigan jolted upright as she awoke, gasping for air, eyes wide. She heard a gentle shushing beside her, felt a cool hand rubbing the back of her neck. She relaxed for a moment, then shook her head and turned to see Allistair sitting beside her. She hit his hand away, scooting away from him. The ex templar sighed. "Your welcome, by the way. You know, for bringing you back."

"I didn't ask for your help, Allistair."

"Actually, you did." Allistair chuckled awkwardly. "Just before you, er, collapsed...you said 'help me'."

Morrigan's eyes widened. "I did WHAT?! From you? What are you going to do, send templars after me to cleanse me?"

"No, no, no, it's not like that. I'm not a templar anymore, anyway. I just," he sighed, looking down. "I don't know. I just didn't want to leave you laying on the ground in the deep roads, is all." When Morrigan didn't respond, he sighed and stood up. "I'll just be going now then."

"Allistair, wait!" The sharp desperation in her voice surprised even Morrigan, as did the ensuing coughing fit.

Allistair raised an eyebrow and sighed, sitting back down. "Fine. Clearly something's wrong because you're not trying to turn me into a toad."

Morrigan smirked and closed her eyes. Her jaw clenched and she squirmed a bit in pain that couldn't be pinpointed. She sighed, wondering what on earth was happening.

Allistair shook his head, touching her face. "You're feverish. Lie down." As she did so, the ex templar pulled her blanket over her body and rested his cool hand over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun.


	4. Something Wrong

**Sorry last chapter was unbelievably short! I'll try to make it up to all of you.**

That evening, as the party settled down for dinner, Allistair shook his head and brought two bowls of lamb stew up to Morrigan's tent. He sat down beside her, gently shaking her awake. "Here, I brought you some stew."

Morrigan opened her eyes and sniffed it, grimacing. "Yeah right..." She sat upright, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. She looked at the bowl, then at the ex templar. He was almost...adorable. Her eyes started watering as her nose tickled, her breath catching. She closed her eyes and pressed a finger up under her nose. Like some gift from above, she felt a soft, cool fabric encircle her face. She sneezed into it several times, her ears popping and making her dizzy. Before she could fall back however, she felt a cool hand on her back supporting her. The fabric left her face, replaced by another cool hand touching her cheek.

"Maker's breath! You're burning up..."

Morrigan shook her head, opening her eyes to see that Allistair had been the one holding her up and helping her. She put a hand to her head. "Blood and damnation...what's happening to me?"

Allistair sighed, picking up one of the bowls and offering it to her. "At least eat something. You need to keep your strength up."

Morrigan scoffed. "By eating that?" She shook her head and reached over toward her pack. Allistair reached with her, grabbing her pack and looking inside for food. He took out meat and some fruits, eyes widening. Morrigan sighed. "You don't expect me to depend on the cooking abilities of everyone else? Ha!" She sneezed again, coughing hard. She groaned. "Hardly hungry anyway..."

"Well then, here at least drink something." Allistar handed her a flask of water.

Morrigan eyed it for a time, then nodded. She took the flask and tipped it up, drinking all the water in it. She handed it back. After a bit, she looked at Allistair. "Why are you being so nice to me? You're a templar. I'm an apostate, you said so yourself. I'm one of the illegal mages you hunt."

Allistair sighed. "Ex templar. And I'm not sure honestly. It's just that you-you look so, that is you-"

Morrigan smirked, realizing for the first time how handsome he was. She shook her head, clearing her head. It must be the fever that made her think these things.

Allistair stirred his spoon around in his bowl of stew. "I know I'm not a good cook but, it's what they taught us for strength and endurance."

Morrigan nodded, eyes closed. She could feel another sneeze coming on and wasn't sure her head wouldn't explode from it. She pinched the bridge of her nose, a slight groan escaping from her throat. Allistair raised an eyebrow and gently touched the back of her neck. She found his touch cool and relaxing and leaned into it. The sneeze at last overtook her and she jerked forward with the force. Allistair pulled her to him in an embrace. "Come on, lay down. You've got a nasty cold."

Morrigan shook her head. "Something's not right. Something's...inside of me-" She broke off coughing into Allistair's shoulder.

Allistair raised an eyebrow, pushing her back and looking in her eyes. "What do you mean? Did you make a deal? Morrigan, answer!"

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "No, actually, believe it or not I didn't make any deals in the fade. I'm not some bumbling apprentice."

"You just said there was something inside of you. Look, I'm not saying any of this as a templar. I'm saying it as a friend. As a companion. Accidents happen in the fade. Not always a deal."

Morrigan shook her head, closing her eyes. "I wasn't in the fade. I-" she broke off coughing, grabbing her chest. She could hardly catch her breath at all. Allistair held her and rubbed her back, keeping her in a sitting position. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her chest. He closed his eyes and used his templar powers, cleansing her of any mana. Morrigan shivered violently before passing out, going limp in the ex templar's arms. Allistair looked down at her, then looked around. This had never happened before; what had happened?


	5. How to Save a Life

After three days, Morrigan still hadn't awoke. Her body was icy cold, but her face was red hot. Allistair stayed with her day and night, keeping a cold compress over her face and several furs over her body. He kept her fire blazing, not sure what else to do. Unable to take any more, the warden came up. "Allistair, you need to sleep too. If she-well, if she becomes-"

"She's not going to. I can't explain it but," he looked up at her, "Cassandra, she's not being possessed by a demon. I don't know what this is."

"Perhaps Wynne knows? She's a circle mage."

Allistair shook his head. "She's already been here. I have no idea what to do."

Cassandra sighed. "We can go to the Circle Tower. Irving might have some idea."

Allistair nodded, touching Morrigan's cheek as she coughed hard in her sleep. He sighed, feeling helpless.

The next morning, Cassandra left with Wynne, leaving everyone else at camp. Lelliana went hunting, coming back after a couple hours with a string of plump rabbits. Sten sat down with her and helped skin and clean them. Zevran stood watch alone, using the opportunity to collect ingredients for more poisons. As the sun was about to set, while Lelliana was starting to make supper, Cassandra and Wynne returned with First Enchanter Irving. They went to Morrigan's tent, Irving kneeling down slowly. "An apostate...with a templar guarding her. This is...unexpected."

Allistair sighed. "Ex templar. And I'm just worried. Something isn't right here, and it's not like what we learned in training."

Irving nodded. "I can see that. She's not under the possession of a demon; that's for sure. It looks as though she's being taken into the Fade somehow." He touched her arm, which was frigid, then her face, which was still burning up. "This looks like the work of a greater shade, although they usually don't attack mages in this manner."

Allistair raised an eyebrow, looking around. His eyes fell on a book. He reached over Morrigan and picked the book up, opening it. Cassandra gasped. "That was Flemeth's. I gave it to Morrigan after killing her."

Allistair's eyes widened. "You don't think she...?"

Irving took the book and examined it. "Several of these spells are meant to be performed by a very powerful mage. They could kill one with less experience."

"Which one would she use?" Cassandra hadn't even looked inside the tome herself, not being a mage.

Allistair sighed, then had an idea. "You said they require a powerful mage. Is there one in there that grants more power?"

Irving looked through the tome, then nodded. "This one here. It involves summoning a shade, which will grant the caster power instantly. However, from the looks of this young lady, the spell failed."

Allistair shook his head, not understanding. "So what do we do?"

Irving sighed. "Well, entering the fade would be probable, though that requires an abundance of lyrium. We've used most of ours to save the child at Redcliffe."

Cassandra sighed. "What about raw lyrium?"

Irving raised an eyebrow. "A dangerous item to use but...it would be possible. Where would you find such a thing?"

"Orzammar. They owe me a favor now that I've put a king on the throne."

Irving nodded. "If you can get the lyrium, I will perform the ritual. Another mage may enter the fade, such as Wynne."

Cassandra nodded and stood up, setting off. "I'll be back in the morning then."

Allistair nodded. "Irving, Lelliana is cooking dinner. I know it's not as comfortable as the tower."

"No, no. It still gives me a slight thrill to be in the open air." Irving walked down the hill and joined the other party members for dinner. Allistair stayed with Morrigan, stoking the fire.


	6. The Ritual

Cassandra took only her mabari with her into Orzammar and went straight to the palace district. She went through the line of dwarves with requests for their king, and smiled cordially at King Bhelen.

"Ah, the warden who helped me claim my rightful throne. How can Orzammar assist you?"

"I need lyrium." Cassandra got right to the point.

Bhelen laughed a bit. "Run out topside, have they?" He raised an eyebrow.

Cassandra shook her head. "I need raw lyrium."

"That's not an inexpensive request. I trust you have good reason."

"You may recall a mage who also assisted in many of your tasks to get you the throne."

"Ah yes. If I remember correctly, she collapsed in the Deep Roads."

Cassandra nodded. "We need lyrium to save her. I came straight to you, of course, knowing your generosity."

Bhelen narrowed his eyes, knowing he was being manipulated. He couldn't afford to make an enemy of the Grey Warden though. "Very well. A stone's weight of raw lyrium."

Cassandra smiled and bowed. "Most kind of you, my lord Bhelen." She turned and left to retrieve the lyrium.

Midday, Cassandra and her mabari returned with a tightly sealed box. She went straight to Morrigan's tent. "How did she do overnight?"

Alistair shrugged. "Not much change. Which is good, right? I mean, she's not getting worse."

Cassandra put a hand on Alistair's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze.

Irving walked up. "Ah, I see you have been successful in retrieving raw lyrium after all."

Cassandra nodded and looked over to see Wynne approaching. "I am ready, though I feel she should learn the consequences of her actions as we all do."

Alistair looked at her. "Even if that means dying?"

Wynne sighed. "Well I suppose she's learned enough now."

Irving nodded. "Then, let us begin with the ritual. Alistair, you will need to stand back, but stay close in case anything is drawn near."

Alistair nodded and stood up away from Morrigan. Cassandra went down to the main camp to alert everyone else that things of the Fade could be drawn to them because of the ritual. With everyone on high alert, Irving began the ritual, and Wynne closed her eyes as she entered the Fade.


	7. Dragon's Defeat

Wynne looked around as she entered the Fade. She could feel her protective spirit near her and smiled. It was darker here than she was used to it being. She walked a ways before seeing Morrigan fighting a dragon. Wynne ran to her. "Morrigan, what in Andraste's name is going on?"

Morrigan glared at Wynne. "I'm proving myself! I have to prove myself before becoming more powerful!"

Wynne narrowed her eyes at the scene. Every time Morrigan cast a spell at the dragon, a ball of purple flame encircled her. Wynne noticed that with every attack, Morrigan weakened a bit. She shook her head. "Can you not see what's happening? You're slowly being taken into the Fade. You won't be able to return at all soon: you already cannot return alone."

Morrigan glared at Wynne. "I can return whenever I wish, old woman."

"Then do so."

Morrigan scoffed. "I will not, for I have not proven myself. I will defeat this dragon, and I will seize its power."

Wynne shook her head. "This is not real. Remember, you are in the Fade. Nothing is as it seems. You are a mage; think!"

"I think you need to leave, old woman. Before I kill you as well."

Wynne sighed. "And what shall I tell the templars awaiting to kill you should I fail?"

"Will they not kill me anyway for being an apostate?" Morrigan scoffed.

"No," Wynne said softly, "he won't."

Morrigan's eyes widened. "Alistair..." The area seemed to pulse and Morrigan looked at Wynne, then at the dragon. The beast laughed. Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "You will not defeat me, dragon!"

Wynne shook her head as Morrigan fell back into the clutches of the illusion. She's noticed her reaction to the mention of Alistair though. She nodded slightly, realizing how this would be done. "Morrigan, stop! Alistair will be confronting the shade who did this to you any minute. He is unprepared and will meet a similar fate, perhaps worse."

Morrigan's eyes widened and she gasped. She looked at the dragon and was about to attack again, but stopped. She turned and looked at Wynne. "Where is he?"

"He is at your side. He has been since you came here."

Morrigan shook her head. "I cannot see him. I cannot feel him."

Wynne smiled softly. "You've been trapped in the Fade for almost a week. From your physical appearance, you've been at death's door."

Morrigan narrowed her eyes. "And if you're lying?"

Wynne extended a hand. "Come with me. Deny the shade his power and come with me. See for yourself."

Morrigan examined the hand and nodded, taking it.

Morrigan's eyes snapped open and she gasped. Wynne opened her eyes and smiled as Alistair knelt beside Morrigan, touching her. "You're alive!"

Morrigan nodded, looking into Alistair's eyes. She sat up and looked around. She saw Irving and narrowed her eyes, nodding. Irving smiled and stood. "I feel it is time to return to the Circle. It is good to see this story has a happy ending."

Cassandra smiled. "I'll accompany you to be sure you arrive safely."

Irving shook his head. "I can manage, thank you. You have wasted enough time, I think. The Blight will not wait." With that, he left.

Morrigan sighed in relief. Relief was replaced by confusion, however. "I can feel it. Power. True power." She looked from Alistair to Wynne.

Wynne smiled and nodded. "You defeated the dragon, after all."

Morrigan laughed, looking around. "Well then, let us move on lest the dust gather on us."

**The End**


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